NearDeath Proclamations
by Tarafina
Summary: When Derek takes a spill in hockey, he realizes he should probably share a few things with his favorite Space Case.


**Title**: Near-Death Proclamations  
**Category**: Life With Derek  
**Rating**: PG13  
**Genre**: Humor/Romance  
**Pairing**: Casey/Derek  
**Prompt**: #19 - Lost  
**Word Count**: 836  
**Summary**: When Derek takes a spill in hockey, he realizes he should probably share a few things with his favorite Space Case.

**_Near-Death Proclamations  
_**-Drabble-

Casey helped him to the couch, being careful not to jostle him too much. It was worrying her that he was being so quiet. Usually, he'd be shottying the remote and demanding nachos or some other entirely unhealthy snack. Instead, he just sat there, his expression unreadable and his eyes dark. The doctor said he might be a little out of it; he was on a lot of pain meds for his latest injury. While any normal and _sane_ person might've stayed over for observation, Derek had immediately vetoed the idea and made it clear he wanted to go home as quickly as possible. She had argued with him but when her only response was a firm frown, she knew there was no changing his mind. It was when he wasn't verbally sparring with her that she knew that nothing she said would make an effect.

Setting him up with more pillows than needed, she turned to leave. Maybe she'd make him a snack, something he wouldn't like, and get a rise out of him. If he ate it, she knew she had to call an ambulance. With her logic firmly in place, she smiled.

Quickly, he grabbed her hand, and dragged her back until she was standing in front of him, worried. "What? What is it? Is it your head? How many of me do you see?" she asked anxiously. Suddenly, she stomped her foot. "Der-ek! I _told _you it was better to stay at the hospital."

He didn't reply, instead he squeezed her hand and waited. And when her muttering died down, he stunned her. "I love you, Case."

She blinked. "How many pills did you take?" she half-yelled. "You were only allowed three, Derek. If you're _hallucinating_…" She shook her head, already planning a way to get back at him for this. Two years they'd been in a relationship and yes, on very rare occasions, he said those three words. But for him to just spit it out, when it wasn't an anniversary he forgot or to apologize for some _other _Derek-like behavior… She was instantly suspicious.

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "I'm not high!"

"Well then…" Her expression tightened with confusion. "Why are you being… _sweet_?"

He sighed. "So maybe… I could've died…"

Her mouth twitched with a small smile. "Okay…"

"And maybe… I might've missed you if I did… A little…" He shrugged.

Her smile grew. "Uh huh… And…?" Her brows rose expectantly.

He glared at her half-heartedly. "And I guess it made me think a little… Not _too _much. I have my good looks and charms to get me through life, still. But…" He half-smiled. "Despite all the fighting and nagging and anal cleaning and the way you alphabetize _everything_, and—" He took a deep breath, his eyes widening, "And your whining about the wet towels and all the girly crap in my _manly _bathroom and the way you obsessively fold all my laundry, underwear included, and—"

"_Okay!_" she interrupted, unamused, "Get on with it, already."

He smirked at her triumphantly; obviously happy that whatever _kindness _had overtaken him wasn't _entirely _in full swing. "Despite _all that_, I do, kinda… love you. A lot."

"More than an Heisman trophy?" Her face lit up.

He snorted. "Yeah… and not only because that goes to _football_ players…"

She rolled her eyes, waving her hands dismissively. "Okay, more than... uh, whatever it is you hockey players get…"

He blinked at her, nonplussed. "The Stanley Cup, Casey… The Holy Grail… The—"

"I get it," she interrupted, grinning. "So you love me more than Steve's Cup…"

He nearly slapped his forehead but with the laceration across it he seemed to realize the impending pain that might cause and lowered his hand. "_Stanley_Cup," he corrected and then added with a crooked smirk, "And occasionally, yeah, I love you more than The Cup… Like when you're wearing that skimpy little nightie I bought for you…" He ran his fingers up her arm.

She snorted. "Nightie? It was made up of all of three pieces of string… I'm pretty sure that doesn't constitute as _real _clothing."

He grinned. "Exactly."

Snorting, she rolled her eyes. "Obviously you're in a better mood."

"Well, the doctor _did_ say it was best to keep me awake… Just in case I have a concussion… And right now I have a great idea about just how to do that…" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Cute. Except you tend to fall asleep right after… So I'm more than certain that _isn't _our best plan of action."

He pouted. "But it's my _favorite _plan of action!"

She shook her head, grinning. "How does nachos and Sports Center sound?"

He sighed, nodding. "Not _quite_ as attractive as you in nothing… but at least the TV doesn't talk back."

With an amused frown, she stood up and walked toward the kitchen. "Jerk."

"Love you too," he called back teasingly before settling back in his brown leather armchair and smirking. Life was pretty damn good.


End file.
